Comfortable Like an Old Shirt

We rode back from the High School in silence. Music is the only sound that fills our car these days, unless I've taken the initiative and started to talk about whatever random things are on my mind. Today I wasn't in the mood. It was almost noon, and barely a dozen words had been exchanged between us all day. My heart was heavy, and sad as I stared out the window at the houses we past and the bare, winter landscape. The majority of the snow we have gotten this winter fell back in October, and everything looks grey and dreary, which wasn't helping my mood any.

I couldn't help but notice how easy it was for him to talk to the people that he works with. How quickly he could answer questions, or laugh, or joke with people about the budget or school things or stuff that had to do with our jobs as educators. How he could go on and on about the network or this or that thing about what he does during his day. Things that he is obviously passionate about. Which is what I was thinking about on the way home. If he can talk that easily to other people about things he is passionate about, maybe he's not passionate about me anymore. Maybe I'm just a comfortable part of his life, that he loves (I don't question that), and nothing more.

I couldn't say any of this to him in the car on the way home though. There was too much hurt and sadness in my heart, and I have learned a lot about myself these past few weeks as I have done a lot of soul searching into my life. When I get cranky, and surly, and lash out with crankiness and criticisms, it's not always driven by anger.  In fact, I'd say a good majority of the time it's not. It's usually fueled by hurt, and when I am hurting, I've noticed that I lash out at others in anger. It was a bit of an eye opener to discover that, and humbling as well. That's not a personality trait I'm proud of, and I'm not sure what to do with or about it. Today I chose to stay silent. Three more hours have gone by, and maybe a dozen more words have crossed our lips and I don't know what to make of any of it.